


Be Mine?

by blanketed_in_stars



Series: 52 Weeks of Wolfstar [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Sick Remus Lupin, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 04:56:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3434372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanketed_in_stars/pseuds/blanketed_in_stars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not much fun being a werewolf. Fortunately, Sirius is aware of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Mine?

**Author's Note:**

> Week 8

Remus pulls the blanket over his head. “Too loud.”

“Sorry.” The door shuts softly. “Is that better?”

He grunts. The mattress dips, and Remus twists to see Sirius smiling down at him. “You have Charms right now. What are you doing here?”

“I thought I could keep you company. I know it’s no fun. The first day of the cycle is always the worst.”

“You’ve got that right.”

A hand squeezes his shoulder through the blankets. “What are your symptoms?”

“Are you a healer?” Remus laughs, making his head ache.

Sirius seems to notice when he winces. “You need water. Here.” He brings a full glass from the jug on the windowsill.

“Thanks.” Remus swallows half of it in one long pull. Gingerly, he sits up. “I hope you’re not expecting a party.”

“Damn. I heard you were a real animal.”

“Ha, ha. At least I’m a wolf, not a mangy dog.”

“You like my mange, admit it.” Sirius twirls his wand around two fingers. “You think I’m adorable.”

Remus sighs. “I always think you’re adorable.”

Sirius beams. “You think I’m a huge—”

“A huge narcissist, yeah.”

“Oh.” Sirius sticks out his lip and looks sideways with eyes like a puppy’s. “We narcissists are an attractive lot, though, aren’t we?”

Remus grins and shoves his shoulder with a noodle-weak arm. “You’re so lucky I’m around, or you’d be in the same boat as James.”

“Is that the boat where we’re so in love with ourselves, it’s no wonder we can’t get dates?”

“That’s the one.”

“I’m shocked, Moony, that you think self-absorption rules out a love life. I’ll have you know that there are whole gaggles of boys and girls out there who love that I love myself— _droves_ of them, whole armies.”

“Naturally.” Remus sips his water, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

“Of course,” Sirius admits, “I’d never go out with any of them, because I happen to have a huge, debilitating weakness for werewolves who think I’m too arrogant for my own good.”

Remus blushes. “I don’t think that.”

“Oh, you do,” Sirius insists. “And I love it. I get to strut about, you get to tell me off for my strutting, and we both get to do it all over again.” He quirks a corner of his mouth. “And I get to sit with you while you’re sick in bed.”

“That’s true.” Remus frowns. “You’ll get detention. What does everyone think you’re doing?”

“Snogging someone, most likely.” He shrugs. “They’re practically right.” He leans forward, but Remus shifts away. “What? It’s not like you’re contagious—are you?”

“Don’t be daft. I’m just tired.”

Sirius nods. “It takes a lot out of you, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s it like?”

Remus sighs, taking the hand that’s offered to him. “Being a werewolf in general, or just today?”

“Just today.”

“I guess it’s… a bit like having arthritis, maybe. You’re supposed to be able to feel a storm coming, in your bones, right? Well, it’s like my bones know that everything’s going to go to hell in twenty-four hours, and they don’t like that. Everything just kind of hurts, and I have a massive headache all day, and the last thing I want to do is kiss someone.” He half-smiles. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for things you can’t help, love.” Sirius pats his hand. “I’ve got something that might make you feel a bit better.”

“Oh?”

“Close your eyes.” Remus obliges. There’s a rustling noise and then a considerable weight across his knees. “All right, open them.”

Lying on the bed in front of him is a monstrous chocolate bar. It’s about a foot wide and twice as long. Remus splutters and laughs. “What’s this for?”

“Think really hard and I’m sure you’ll get it.”

“It’s not my birthday… Oh!” He smiles, and he’s sure it’s too wide to look sane, but he doesn’t care. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sirius.” He leans over the chocolate and plants a soft kiss on his cheek.

Now it’s Sirius who blushes. “And here I was thinking you didn’t want any romance today.” But he’s grinning. “I had to convince the woman in Honeydukes to let me buy it. She didn’t want to let it go, said I’d make myself sick. I told her I was sharing it with three people.”

Remus clutches the bar awkwardly to his chest. “It’s mine. I’m not sharing it.”

“I know. I learned that in our second year, remember, when you ate every single—”

“I was twelve years old!” Remus resists the urge to hit Sirius with the bar and instead breaks off a bit of the corner. “Here. Take this and shut up.”

Sirius snickers and accepts the chocolate. “I love you,” he says with his mouth full.

“Shut up,” Remus repeats.

“No.” He holds up a finger. “I’ve got something else for you, too.”

Remus hides his face behind the bar. “I didn’t get you anything. I completely forgot.”

“I don’t mind,” Sirius assures him, pulling the bar away. “Here, for you.” He whips a somewhat bedraggled bouquet of bright orange flowers from his robes. “Oh, damn, hang on.” He taps the bouquet with his wand and the bent stems straighten.

That’s not the only thing that happens. Remus gags as an overpowering stench fills the air. “What on earth—what kind of flowers are those?”

“Carnations.” Sirius makes a face. “At least, that’s what Stebbins said they were.”

“You got these from _Stebbins?”_

“I thought they’d be nice! He didn’t say he’d bewitched them to smell like a hippogriff’s arse!” He holds the bouquet at arm’s length.

“He didn’t do anything to them.” Remus grins. “I think you did it, trying to fix them just now.”

“I did not.”

“Silly you, showing off when you haven’t got the hang of nonverbal spells yet.”

“Aha!” Sirius throws the flowers out the tower window, and the reek mercifully vanishes with them. “I knew you thought I was arrogant. And a git, too.”

“Well, yeah. But you’re _my_ arrogant git.”

Sirius punches the air in victory. “So, we’ve got another half hour of Charms to waste. Shall I go find more flowers? Ones that don’t stink to high heaven?”

“Please, no.” Remus hands him another piece of chocolate.


End file.
